you told me you loved me (so why did you walk away)
by straw8erries
Summary: i'll be alright, just not after tonight —multi
1. Chapter 1

**you told me you loved me (so why did you walk away)**

 **note1** i'll be updating this here and there with short drabbles  
 **note2** oh god i'm obsessed with the idea of vanessa and zay  
 **note3** otp: i'd buy you a house  
 **listening** nothing lol

 **summary** i'll be alright, just not after tonight —vanessa/zay

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 _Do you remember me?_ she asks with her head titled, messy strands falling into her eyes. A light smile plays on her lips, tentative, cautious, unsure, scared.

Does he remember? The sleepless nights, waiting for her calls but never calling her. The two-times-a-week emails, spending hours on each one, backspacing and going forward just to write _i love you_ twenty-seven times before falling asleep at the computer. Those visits once a year, the ones he said he wouldn't fly out for but did anyway, gathering her in his arms and breathing in her scent, kissing her passionately because who knows when he would see her next. The perfect scores on his last few reports, throwing himself into his work like a machine because no, he stopped feeling when she stopped calling and coming and caring.

He swallows. _No_.

(It's easy to lie, now that three years have passed and left them, us, we as a distant memory. It's a blatant lie but her smile falls, he knows she's trying to keep it together, he's trying to keep it together, but how can they when there's that dull throb in the back of their hearts? Somewhere unreachable, somewhere unmendable, somewhere where it hurts the most. _Of course i remember_ , he could say, but what's the point? Memories are funny things, he starts to think. Stops himself halfway through before those memories stop being funny and start hurting, twisting, gnawing all over again.)


	2. Chapter 2

**you told me you loved me (so why did you walk away)**

 **note1** how is it that a disney channel show has characters who are just so great for angst and heartbreak  
 **listening** colors — halsey

 **summary** ugly, ugly, ugly —riley

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Riley is thirteen when she learns she can't be perfect. It's an ugly number, ugly on the tongue, ugly in the mind. _Thirteen_.

Thirteen. Mean faces and distorted words coming through her ears like she's underwater. You can't do anything. You can't be anything. Laughter, cruel, sharp, bitter.

Thirteen. She fades and sinks beneath the surface. Does anyone care?

She spends the next year in her room, scared of people.

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"This is perfect," his breath is warm against her palm, fingers tangled together. She stiffens. What ugly words, what farfetched lies, just no. Stop it.

"Get the fuck out of here," she starts to untangle herself from him, feeling cold in all the places he touched, " _please_." _But why, why Riley? What did I do, What did I say, I'm sorry, sorry, just talk to me._ She throws something, a black blur across the room. Someone inhales. The door shuts and everything rattles. Everything vibrates.

Thirteen. Her heart is pounding, singing in her ears, a harsh symphony that drowns out her tears.

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"What did he ever do to you?" It should be easier, talking to Maya. Maya, Maya who knows what she's been through in a vicarious way.

It takes her a moment to think about it. Perfect. An insult. She laughs dryly, rubbing her nose with her glove. What did he ever do to you?

"He lied to me." Somewhere in between, the laugh turns into a sob. _What did he ever do to you?_

He cared.

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It's like watching half a movie. She doesn't get him, he doesn't get her. Just guessing through biting lips and body language. Why are we trying? She wants to ask though it's not really a "we" since she was the one who asked to see him.

"I'm sorry." he sounds reluctant, like he doesn't know what he's apologizing for anymore. She doesn't know either.

She stares into her hot chocolate, the one he bought for her because he knew she doesn't like coffee, feeling detached from the world. He's trying too, he really is.

But that's not enough.

"It's ok," is all she gives him, barely enough satisfaction to make him feel like the seven dollars he shelled out for their drinks was worth it.

(It's not a goodbye, not a clean break. Not even a break at all, just a memory that they'll spend the rest of their lives wondering why, why couldn't (s)he, why couldn't we, and why didn't you try harder?)


End file.
